Cows lowing in a field and I’m 175 lbs of ambition.  Everything is golden brown - the dirt, the blades of dry grass, the dust in the air.  I can see everything, everywhere, forever.

A coyote near a house - and I ran back to my truck and grabbed my pellet gun.  As it walked by I shot it - but the pressure of the gun and was almost nil and the pellet patted the coyote on it’s side, doing nothing.  I pumped the gun again while it started walking away and I shot it in the rear - and it turned into a girl and she dropped her pants and the pellet was embedded in her upper hip.

I swing my fists at the man in a boxing ring and I see my opportunity, but everything moves in slow motion and I can’t seem to hit him, or hit him hard. 

I’m in       S  l    o     w        M    o   t    i    o   n      and I can’t breathe.

The blind man walked towards me, grabbed me by the hand and gave me a piece of crusty bread.  It tasted homemade and made me homesick.

He gave me something small and whispered something large in my ear.  I looked in his gray blue eyes and they looked past me, or slightly to the side of me, then down.  Scruffy white patchy beard, creased skin on his chin.   His eyes watered.

He asked me to shoot him. 
To put him out of his misery of blindness.

I turned away.

I saw a boy named Cody in the field and he had an ear ache and a swollen eye and that eye was huge - he said that he could see the problems clearly with his big eye - and when I looked in his eye - I could see small worms wriggling inside the bottom of the opaque eyeball.  I didn’t want to be close to him lest I get what ever disease it was.

I turned back toward my truck and it wasn’t there anymore.  There was a wagon in its place, alone in that big field of dry golden grass.  I could see to the edge of my flat world.

“Being poor brings you back to the fundamentals” a voice said.

“Four legs under a tabletop.  A chair.  Water.  Love.  A cup.  A plate.”

“The fallacy is that bigger is better.  More is best.”

I know that.

In a canoe, I paddled out onto the lake with two friends.  It was a dark night with a moon behind the clouds that were moving fast.  The two friends stepped out of the canoe and walked on water - leaving me alone.

I was dressed in white and was playing with a marker when it came apart and the colored ink fell all over my white pants.

I stepped out into the water and sank to the bottom and began to drown. 

This can’t be the end

And I woke up in a gasp for air.